Lingering Among the Shadows of Trust

Anomalous 1

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PART I
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WATER RUSHED OUT FROM THE faucet—the dripping noise filled the room. My face reflected through my eyes—staring at the mirror as blood dripped down my cheeks. I gently rub both my hands with soap, unbothered by the shadowy figure of a girl behind me facing the wall. Typical. I took a deep breath while wiping off the blood-filled scratch on my face, cleaning it with my clean fabric and covering it with a Band-Aid. The girl vanished when I turned around—not even loud tumbles of the floor reached my ears. Feeling undaunted, I snatched my bag and walked out from my apartment.

The outside breeze crawled on my skin. My body shivering on a hot sunny day from the frigid stares from everyone around me. Despite the loud groans of the cars, the people's faint murmurs engulfed my ears. Whispering. Muttering. Soft like little pixies. I gazed straight in the direction of my school and kept my attention retained. I could see them from the side of my eye. They cover their mouths as they spoke. A few more yards away from the entrance of my school. I got a weird shiver. Felt like someone's staring at me as I walk through the two-way doors. Atop the pristine white table, a Lenovo computer hums softly. Laying my fingers on the keyboard, followed by clattering sounds, my name pops up on the screen, Anna Murphy. My body shook. The bell rang as soon as I walk away from the PC. Right, no need to be scared. No one can hurt me anymore. When I entered the crowded lobby, my eyes wandered across the open space, scanning the details of the walls and pillars, as well as unfamiliar faces. Full of sparkles and joy engulfed the surroundings. It was too much sparkles and joy. One of the well-dressed ladies standing in the middle of the lobby approached with a smile.

"Hello! Welcome to Cyprian High! Do you have any inquiries?" she asked.

"Can I ask where Room 213 is?" I replied, returning a smile.

     "Room 213..." she pondered. It is on the second floor of the left wing. Each classroom will have its own labels, so you'll find it in no time."

     "Thank you!" I navigated through the crowd towards the stairs.

     First impressions aren't my forte, and being the only transfer student from Erikson's school, to which I hope, would make things hard. I try my best to avoid causing a burden on my aunt and uncle, recalling their assurance that Cyprian High stands as an excellent choice, even if it was more of an alternative. I like it that way. According to them, it is a new, high-quality school with the promise of literary and art classes, stirring delights within me. It felt like I arrived in a different country. A little creature roaming a giant's playground. Those tall buildings in the city overshadowed my small-town neighborhood. My aunt reserved an apartment in Ruskin Firs Street, a serene and peaceful neighborhood, at least that's what I've heard before. When we got here, we scooted into a small line on the road with sirens blaring. I stared at the dented face of a semi-truck and a motorcycle lying dead, with glass shards scattered on the cemented pavement. Not the best impression to see first-hand. Heavy silence settled and a shadow of the past washed over my eyes. It's like a chilling breeze sweeping through the air, lingering the weight of memories too painful to voice... too painful to keep in mind.

The first days of school went by without me attending to any of them, not due to the unforeseen road traffic, but rather the treachery of our pick-up truck. It would sputter and groan, succumbing to breakdowns on our trip. My uncle wanted a functional truck by the end of the month. No wonder. Every time it dies, he always had to call the nearest mechanic each time it happened. Even upon reaching the apartment building, the engine finally failed, and forcing him another call, this time summoning the towing services. It was not a great experience. I get motion sickness easily, and that was such a bumpy ride.